somnambulism
noun
- meaning to sleepwalk
Some people talk in their sleep.
Some get up, walk around, and find themselves in unusual places.
And Simon Riley—well, Simon Riley fucks in his sleep.
It was like clockwork. Around two hours into his sleep, your boyfriend would stir on his side of the bed. His huge body pressed flush against your, hips rutting against the swell of your ass, waking you up in the middle of the night.
You were used to it by now, and you absolutely didn't mind it. And you wouldn't have minded it tonight, if the two of you were at your own place. But you weren't.
Alejandro had invited all of you to stay at his hacienda for a little vacation. The whole TF141, Alejandro and Rudy, of course, and a few of his closest vaqueros were strewn around the house, sleeping soundly in their bedrooms.
Separated by walls that you noticed weren't exactly soundproof. You had heard Price countless times, reprimanding the other Task Force members. He wasn't even yelling at them, and still you could make out almost every word. Through the wall, a hallway and two closed doors.
But Ghost's little sleeping habit wasn't affected by this at all. He pulled you close, and a familiar heat started to pool between your legs as he moved you with ease, handling you like a doll even in his unconscious state. There wasn't a chance of freeing yourself; his grip tightened around your waist as he turned your body. Adjusting your position so that his ass was pressed against his half-hard cock.
His hot breath hit the back of your neck. Not restricted by the fabric of his mask, and it sent shivers down your spine. His big hands started to wander right up the loose shirt you were wearing. Simon's shirt, because you forgot to bring your own pajamas.
His hands wandered higher. Over your stomach slowly, until he cupped your tits. Rough hands grabbing soft flesh, controlled by muscle memory alone. Greedy fingers wandering even higher, wrapping around your neck, his touch something between gentle and demanding.
It forced a quiet gasp out of you, the sound followed by a shift of his hips. His cock twitches against your ass, and you can feel how your wetness starts to soak your panties. Why you are even wearing them is a mystery in itself, and Ghost seems to share that thought because the hand that isn't wrapped around your throat wanders lower.
Before you can prepare yourself to keep quiet, he shoves your panties aside. Thick fingers slid through your slick folds while you bit down on your lip. Trying to delay the inevitable. With no success, because tiny moans started to leave you as his fingers traced tiny circles over your clit.
You tried to wriggle free, to wake him up and keep him from continuing. You can't do this. Not here, not now. The others will know. They'll hear everything.
"Don't move." His voice came from behind you, sleepy and husky with arousal. Not quite awake, not fully asleep. But determined.
His breath hit the back of your neck again as he slid a finger inside you, and your desperate attempt to free yourself only made him push it deeper. There was no way you could stay quiet, not when he was fingering you, and even less if he was fucking you.
But Ghost didn't care for your apparent fear of being indecent, a satisfied huff left him as he noticed how wet you were for him. He stayed like this for a while, slowly fucking you with his fingers until he pulled them out. Sliding his palm over your soaked pussy, he smeared your wetness over his cock before he lined himself up with your entrance.
